Fable

The fable of a hero broken into lies A demon always able to make us all despise An angel preaching cures that didn’t tell us why But the people standing clueless could only ever cry A mountain overshadowing the endless night A sun that sits behind and begs to be in sight The wisdom of a sage growing to see this fight But still the shadows of the people overtake the light Raindrops into mildewed, empty clouded eyes Teardrops as fake and silent as an angels lies Fear forever freezing prosthetic dead end cries The fallen angels stepping back from the devils prize Lonely heroes fading into empty crowds The upper-middle class caught up in their shrouds The fear that whispers not to ever look up into clouds The self centred looking out but never hearing sound A sacred empty room that’s worth more than gold The possession of our sight, something we all sold Love and self belief is something growing old The infinite besieged by the devils deceiving goals The fight is still to come; the only thing I know